


nostalgic for garbage, desperate for time

by terra incognita (epeolotry)



Category: Veep
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-04
Updated: 2015-06-04
Packaged: 2018-04-02 21:53:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4075144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epeolotry/pseuds/terra%20incognita
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But in between wading through piles of shit and pulling the Vice President out of holes she dug herself into, there are precious brief moments. Of quiet laughs shared in dark corridors, of crooked smiles exchanged before diving back into rooms and responsibilities.</p>
            </blockquote>





	nostalgic for garbage, desperate for time

**Author's Note:**

> almost every weirdly beautiful dysfunctional pair on veep has made a profound impact on me & sue/kent are no exception. 
> 
> title is from vampire weekend's [taxi cab](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=thuR_YZ2KCM).

He’s no moonstruck teenager and she is certainly no dewy eyed girlfriend-in-waiting.

They are not children. He has numbers to crunch and a Presidential hopeful to keep in tow. She has a 9 to 5 job and a practiced glare that appears without fail whenever he tries to make a joke.   

This is war. Against the press, against the public, half the time against their own better judgment.

Ultimately against the ever-rising levels of shit destined to drown them all. 

 

But in between wading through said piles of shit and pulling the Vice President out of holes she dug herself into, there are precious brief moments. Of quiet laughs shared in dark corridors, of crooked smiles exchanged before diving back into rooms and responsibilities. 

 _Would there be more time for these moments_ , he asks, eyes lowered and careful, fingers tentatively twining around hers, _for coffee during almost-normal morning hours?_

 

Perhaps, for a chance to damage control in a more…habitable environment, with the quiet static of a television in the background, with the warmth of her person closer than her usual professionally maintained two-foot distance?

 

Her lips curve upward wryly and she lets out barely a chuckle before deftly untangling her fingers and turning back to her desk just in time for the Veep to walk through the door. The thin veneer of intimacy is replaced with the regular pretense of _we-are-doing-very-valuable-and-important-work_.

Hurrying out of the room, he buries his nose in his numbers, in excel sheets and pie charts, and she in her artfully crafted calendars and the four calls on the line already beeping loudly and vying for her attention. 

Both maintain the enormously pleased looks on their face though, impervious, if only for a brief moment, to the uphill battle being waged around them. 

 

The war doesn’t matter when you have a date Friday night. 

 

 


End file.
